


The Days are Cold, the Cards All Fold

by orphan_account



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, In that time period after Disordered but before Performance, Memory Related, Mind Manipulation, Original Team, Original six, S1, but not really, i took a lot of liberties with canon info whoops, its more like a, memory walkthrough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Captured and trapped inside their own heads, forced to relive their worst memories, Miss Martian must rescue each of her teammates (and friends) from the clutches of their own minds. Thankfully, she won’t have to do it alone.Don’t get too close, it’s dark inside—





	The Days are Cold, the Cards All Fold

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of crappy, but to be fair, it was 2am.

M’gann M’orzz was nine years old. Well... twenty-seven, actually. But on Earth she would be nine, and that was what mattered.  
- _Hey, paleskin!-_  
- _Where do you think you’re going?-_  
The young Green Martians’ voices resounded in her head with disdain and disgust. It didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. It was Mars, and you couldn’t change who you were.  
- _Hey! I’m talking to you. Gimme your bag. Your crap’s gotta have something worth keeping. Unlike you.-_  
Lost schoolwork was a small price to pay, if it meant going home without bruises. Without having to look at her mother’s sad eyes.  
- _Hope you burn, whitey!-_  
She hoped they’d burn too. 

M’gann was thirteen. Well... thirty-nine, actually. But if she counted with Earth-Years, she was almost Megan’s age!  
She was watching her favorite episode for the sixth time when one of her twelve sisters came home crying.  
M’gann felt her heart shatter at the sound. It was one of her little sisters, V’riey- she was only eighteen!  
M’gann wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed in her planet when she knew exactly why poor V’riey was sobbing, without the little girl having to say a word.  
Instead of offering anything that would really, truly help, she just gathered her baby sister in her arms and let her cry into her shoulder.  
She’d never felt so helpless in her life.

She was fifteen years old. She didn’t know how old she’d be in Earth-Years. It didn’t matter to her (yet).  
She was so excited!  
It was her first day of school!  
“Don’t talk to Greens, and get home as quick as you can,” her mother kissed her forehead.  
“Don’t worry, Mommy! I know!” She giggled and waved and practically skipped off to her classroom.  
She was going to _learn!_  
Aside from a few disgusted looks, nothing bad had happened all day! Her new best friend was another White named L’wyri and she was the _nicest person in the world._ It was break time and they were gonna play Changer, and see who could grow out their hair the longest and the fastest.  
A bigger boy, a Green, walked up to them and crossed his arms. Mindful of her mother’s warning, M’gann dutifully ignored him.  
He didn’t like that.  
- _Hey freakazoids. What do you think you’re doing at this school?-_  
- _Learning things,-_ L’wyri snorted.  
- _Shut up, whitey! My mom said you savages don’t belong on this planet, and I plan to make that happen! If it takes my fists then that’s what it’ll have to be!-_ The boy didn’t even raise his arms, but L’wyri started floating and struggling, clawing at her throat. Small bruises started forming there as she struggled to breathe. The boy smirked.  
- _Hey! Stop that!-_ M’gann finally couldn’t take it anymore.  
- _Oh? You want some too?-_ The Green dropped L’wyri, the girl all but forgotten, and turned all his attention onto M’gann. He smirked again, and he began choking the life out of her, telekinetically throwing her against the school’s wall.  
- _That’ll teach ya,-_ the boy hissed.  
The teachers came flying after a minute, but that utter pain, cutting off her air, her throat bruising and her arms scraping against the stone, was the longest minute of M’gann’s life.  
It was probably her worst memory.

Wait.

Memory?

 _Something’s wrong,_ a little voice in her whispered. It sounded much older than fifteen. But she was fifteen, just a little girl- it was her first day of school-

_Wrong._

She felt that sense of _wrongness_ and pulled on it, let her consciousness acknowledge it and find the source. 

She was pulled out of her surroundings, which that she now understood to be... a memory. It had already happened. Years and years and years ago.

Now—she was still fifteen years old, but she was in a white expanse of nothingness. 

- _Hello?-_  
“Hello?”  
There was no answer.  
Why did she think there should be more people here? Why was she so sure she wasn’t alone?

 _Return_ , the little voice in her whispered. _You must return._

She found the wrongness again, and pulled with all her telepathic strength. 

She woke up.

Miss Martian gasped and sat up from the metal table she was laying on. The dim room around her slowly came into focus, lit only by small slits in the walls that seemed to serve as windows.  
There were five other tables plus her own, arranged in a circle. Each had one of her teammates, appearing unconscious and—and in pain.  
Miss Martian quickly tried to stand, only to be rather hampered by what humans called a “head rush.”  
She hadn’t been this dizzy since-  
_Hello, Megan!_  
Since the Failsafe simulation!  
Ignoring the upsetting memories involved with that particular incident, she immediately flew to Artemis’ table, on her left, and pressed her hand to her friend’s forehead. Her eyes flared solid green, and the room vanished.

M’gann was in a bedroom. It was sparse and gray, but a bedroom nonetheless, if the two beds on either side of the room were any indication. The only decoration was a worn poster of Lewis Carroll’s Alice and Wonderland. Hm. That was... kind of strange.  
She turned her attention from the decor to the two girls in the room.  
One was clearly a younger Artemis, her thick blonde hair in a ponytail, wearing denim overalls and a white t-shirt. The other, currently packing up a duffle bag, looked almost exactly like her. Same almond eyes, same tanned skin, very pretty but very sharp-edged. She was wearing all dark clothes, and a baseball cap covered her hair, but it was clearly thick and dark. Probably Artemis’ sister... or maybe a cousin. M’gann wondered briefly why Artemis had never mentioned her.  
“Please,” the younger Artemis begged. “Please don’t go!”  
“Sorry, sis. Mom’s not getting out of prison anytime soon,” she furiously continued packing her bag, “and I refuse to live in this house with just _Dad_.”  
M’gann frowned. She’d known from Artemis’ general attitude that her home life was less than ideal—and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do—but clearly she was missing key information here.  
“Dad and _you_ and _me!_ ” Artemis hugged the teddy bear she was holding tightly. M’gann’s heart clenched. She couldn’t have been older than nine. “We need to keep this family from falling apart!” Little Artemis looked like she was about to cry, but the tears didn’t fall.  
The older girl looked like she wanted to answer with something heartfelt, and M’gann was practically begging her to at this point—but she just lightly hit her forehead.  
“Toothbrush, duh! Knew I was forgetting something.”  
“Dad will come after you,” Artemis warned. M’gann wondered briefly why this was such a terrible thing—weren’t parents supposed to be worried for their children, especially when they ran away? Unless—  
Oh.  
_Oh..._  
The scene before her made a lot more sense.  
“Let him,” the older girl grinned. “I’ll disappear—like the Cheshire Cat.”  
Cheshire—  
The Alice and Wonderland poster—  
And... the assassin’s strange behavior toward Artemis.  
_Hello, Megan._  
“You should get out too,” the older sister said, almost tenderly, but it was ruined with her next statement. “I’d let you come with me—but you’d just slow me down.”  
“Someone has to be here when Mom gets out.” Little Artemis’ voice was determined, so similar to her older self. Much too old for her age.  
“Haven’t you learned anything? In this family, it’s every girl for herself.” The older girl’s face hardened, and she left, closing the door behind her. Young Artemis curled up on the bed with her teddy bear, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry. M’gann wished she could comfort her. No wonder this was her worst memory. 

The scene ended.

Now—if M’gann could find Artemis’ consciousness, she could convince her that it wasn’t real, and hopefully pull her out and figure out what the heck happened. It had to have been something bad, if it placed them all into some sort of reliving-your-worst-memories mind simulation.

But before she could find her, the world rippled into shape again, and M’gann realized with no small amount of dread that that had not been Artemis’ worst memory.

“Again.”  
A harsh voice, familiar and apathetic.  
Another room came into focus. It looked like some sort of dojo, dark and windowless, lit only by a few fluorescents. The two sisters were there, but even younger. Artemis was probably around five, and Cheshire looked about nine. They’re both covered in bruises and shallow cuts, thick, contrasting hair pulled into ponytails, identical dark eyes shining.  
“I don’t wanna fight her!” Artemis’ voice cracked as she protested. There was a man standing in the shadows by the two of them, who seemed to be ordering their... training? Could this be called training?  
He stepped into the light, and M’gann gasped.  
_Sportsmaster._  
“Now now, Missy,” he tutted, sickly sweet. “What did I say about arguing with Daddy?”  
Oh. Oh my.  
_Sportsmaster is Artemis’ father._  
More puzzle pieces fit into place.  
Artemis was silent, but she looked down and hunched her shoulders, chastised. Cheshire gave her a sympathetic glance from behind her father’s back.  
“Now, sweethearts,” Sportsmaster sneered, “again. Brutally, this time. I’m not seeing enough pain.”  
M’gann watched as the sisters were forced against each other again and again. Sometimes with swords, sometimes with knives, sometimes just bare-knuckled brutality, but by the end of it, Artemis was sobbing, and Cheshire looked close to it.  
“That’s all for today. Time to go home... tomorrow, we’ll see about throwing stars.”  
M’gann could do nothing but stare as the sisters were dragged away.

The scene faded.

There! Artemis’ consciousness and that _wrongness,_ the little voice saying _it’s not real, it’s not real—_  
She pulled at it.

M’gann was back in the blank white expanse, but this time she was not alone.  
“Who are you?!” Five-year-old Artemis, bruised and bleeding, held a small knife at her neck.  
“I’m your friend,” she tried to explain.  
“I don’t have friends,” Little Artemis growled, and the phrase sounded so wrong in her tiny voice.  
“Look,” M’gann said. She phased through the knife, so she was facing Artemis and could talk to her head-on. “I’m M’gann M’orzz. Miss Martian. I’m your friend. You’re sixteen years old, you’re a hero, and we’re on a team. Look around. We’re inside your mind.”  
Artemis froze, but didn’t attack, seeming to only just realize her surroundings.  
“And if I believe you? What happens then?”  
“Then we can go home.”  
Little Artemis hesitated, bit her lip, then nodded.

Everything went white.

Artemis launched up from the table with a gasp.  
“ _What the hell was that?!”_  
Miss Martian raised her hands placatingly.  
“I don’t remember! It’s all kind of fuzzy. We were on a mission and encountered some kind of telepath—he’s trapped all of us in our own worst memories.”  
After a few deep breaths, Artemis responded.  
“That’s... that’s all I remember too. Except for the last part. Geez. You’re able to get us out?”  
“Yes, but...”  
“You have to watch them. You have to watch the memories,” Artemis finished for her. “That’s great. Wonderful! I’m assuming you think I’m the mole now?”  
“Wh-what?!” Miss Martian blustered.  
Honestly, the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.  
“You know. The traitor? The one who’s gonna kill us all?” Artemis looked unimpressed.  
“Our pasts don’t make us who we are,” Miss Martian said carefully. Artemis gave her a strange look, but her normally carefully-closed-off thoughts radiated gratefulness. Miss Martian took it as a victory, though probably a temporary one.  
“The good thing is,” she grinned, “Since I managed to wake you up, I can take you with me for everyone else! We can help each other!”  
Artemis gave her a wry smile.  
“Why not?”

Deciding to continue going to clockwise, Robin was next.  
“Are you ready?” Miss Martian held no small amount of nervousness for Robin’s memories. If they discovered his identity through them, he’d be pretty upset.  
“As I’ll ever be,” Artemis smirked.  
Miss Martian’s eyes glowed green.

Instead of a memory, they were in the strange white expanse that M’gann had decided to label “consciousness.”  
“That’s strange,” she muttered to Artemis. “We should be in a memory.”  
“NO!”  
They both jumped. It had been Robin’s voice.  
“NO!” he yelled again.  
“Robin, it’s us—“ Artemis tried.  
“GET OUT! GET OUT! _OUT OF MY HEAD!”_  
Briefly she saw Robin’s still-masked face, looking terrified out of his mind before her own head filled with _pain._

Miss Martian opened her eyes to find herself and Artemis sprawled on the ground.  
“Did—did he just kick us out?” Artemis groaned.  
“Batman must’ve trained him,” Miss Martian resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  
“Yeah, because learning to subconsciously defend your mind from your own teammates is normal training,” Artemis helped her stand.  
“He probably registered us as a threat. Let’s just move on—we can get back to him, and with Kid Flash with us he should let us through.” Miss Martian took a deep breath.  
“Sounds good to me,” Artemis agreed, and they stepped past Robin’s table to Aqualad’s.  
Artemis grabbed her hand, and together they dove into his mind.

They were in an actual memory, which was a relief.  
It was rather fuzzy, though, which was strange—it meant Kaldur didn’t remember it very well.  
There were a few figures, swimming in deep water, Atlantis nowhere in sight.  
“Take care of him... please. He can’t know—can’t know where he came from. The truth would be too dangerous.” The man speaking was clearly Aquaman—but he looked young, barely past his teen years. Newly crowned, then. He handed over a toddler to two Atlanteans, a man and a woman. They looked like a couple—upon closer inspection and some squinting due to the fuzziness of the memory, she realized they were Kaldur’ahm’s parents. She’d seen the picture frames in his room in the Cave.  
And the toddler—that was Kaldur.  
“Of course, my King. We will raise him like our own.”

The memory faded.

“That was weird,” Artemis remarked.  
“Definitely” M’gann agreed.  
They didn’t have to think about the implications long, because another, much clearer memory slowly appeared before them. 

They were in Atlantis now. The water was bright with light gently dancing through it, and the spires of the city around them glimmered.  
Kaldur was speaking to two Atlanteans. There was a boy with dark, shoulder-length hair and a pleasant smile, and a bright, redheaded girl with freckles scattered across her face. They were laughing, but something was... off. They had the ease of old friends—people who’d known each other for years, been comfortable with their friendship for a long time—but there was a slight bit of awkwardness between them, like a frigid knife slipped between Kaldur and his companions.  
“That’s Tula,” M’gann gestured to the cheerful Atlantean girl. “Kaldur’s been in love with her for years...”  
To be fair, he hadn’t exactly tried to hide it. M’gann just put the clues together.  
“And it looks like,” Artemis remarked, “someone else beat him to the punch.”  
The dark-haired boy had slipped his hand into Tula’s.  
“That’s Garth—Kaldur’s best friend. They’ve been inseparable since they were children.” M’gann swam closer to the group with Artemis close behind. They were chatting about nothing, simple small talk and catching up.  
The girls watched as Kaldur’ahm noticed the new dynamic between his two best friends, and saw the realization dawn on him with no small amount of disappointment. The other two didn’t seem aware of his change in mood. _Some best friends they were_ , M’gann thought huffily.  
Something in the distance pulled the trio away from their conversation, and the memory faded into another.  
The trio was standing in front of Atlantis’ main zeta tube. Kaldur looked ready to leave, and there was reluctance in his eyes. No one could ever doubt how much Kaldur’ahm loved his kingdom. Yet... there was also relief.  
Strange.  
“Kaldur,” Tula began gently, her hand in Garth’s, “I—we—that is...”  
Kaldur, kind, sweet Kaldur, placed his hands on his friends’ shoulders, and looked at them earnestly.  
“I wish you both nothing but the best,” he told them. He gave Tula a hug. There was a sense of... finality to it.  
He turned to leave, but at the last moment he looked back at Garth.  
“Have you ever wondered what would have happened if I had stayed behind, and you had become Aqualad?”  
“Never,” Garth responded with a smile, and M’gann couldn’t detect a lie in his words.  
“No,” Kaldur said softly, almost to himself, “neither have I.  
_“Recognized: Aqualad; B02.”_

The memory vanished with a flare of white light. When M’gann opened her eyes, she was in the familiar white realm of consciousness.  
“None of this is real, is it?” Kaldur’ahm asked the two of them upon seeing the intruders to his mind.  
“No,” M’gann agreed.  
“How do I... wake up, then?” he cocked his head.  
“Let me do the hard work,” M’gann smirked, and grabbed both Artemis’ and Kaldur’s hands, focusing deeply on the _wrongness_ of her surroundings.

They blinked their eyes open, back in their dark prison.  
Aqualad rubbed his forehead and sat up from the metallic slab he’d been laying on.  
“That was uncomfortable,” he said lightly, and Miss Martian had to agree.  
“Time for Superboy, then,” she nudged cheerfully. If she was being honest with herself, though, she just really wanted this over with. “Do you want to come, Aqualad?”  
“Yes. I believe any support the team can provide will be necessary for this... ordeal.”  
“Ha! You can say that again,” Artemis elbowed him wryly, her smile shaky but sincere.  
Miss Martian grinned brightly at them both, hoping to reassure them a bit, before taking both their hands and diving into Superboy’s mind. 

They were in the white expanse or consciousness, rather than a memory.  
Very, very strange.  
“Hey Supes, you’re not gonna kick us out, are you?” Artemis called.  
“Um. What?” Kaldur gave her a strange look.  
“Well last time we ended up here first, instead of a memory, Robin kicked us out of his head. Kinda hurt,” Artemis shrugged. Kaldur frowned, but didn’t respond.  
“Conner?” M’gann tried. No answer.  
- _Conner? Are you there?-_  
- _Oh. Hi, M’gann.-_  
- _We’re here to get you out, but you have to appear.-_  
- _Oh. Um. Okay. I can do that.-_  
Conner stepped out of the blank nothingness, looking rather confused.  
“Is this... not a weird dream?”  
“No...?” What exactly was going on here? “We were on a mission and... the details are fuzzy, but we got on the wrong side of a telepath, and now we’re all experiencing our worst memories over and over. I’m getting everyone out and,” she gestured to Kaldur and Artemis, “bringing help.”  
“That makes sense.”  
“How, exactly?” Artemis crossed her arms, seeming to be just as confused as M’gann.  
“I haven’t even been alive for a year,” Conner shrugged. “I don’t have any worst memories. I barely even have good ones. Everything just kind of... _is_ , right now, if you know what I mean?”  
“Not really, but we’ll take your word for it, my friend. M’gann, can you get us out of here?” Kaldur put his hand on Conner’s shoulder reassuringly.  
“Um—yep! I sure can!” She quickly took Kaldur and Artemis’ hands, and took them all out of Conner’s mind.

“So... can we all agree this is the strangest thing we’ve ever done,” Artemis adjusted her ponytail.  
“Absolutely,” Aqualad said with a small smile.  
“Nice. Oh boy, Baywatch is next. This should be fun. Ha! I bet his worst memory is his mom burning his pancakes.”  
“Be nice,” Miss Martian chastised, but the two girls shared a grin.  
The four made their way over to Kid Flash’s table, exchanged a determined glance, and allowed Miss Martian to bring them into his mind.

A memory rippled into existence around them. 

They were outside of an elementary school. It looked like Central City, but M’gann had only been there once or twice, so she couldn’t be totally sure.  
It wasn’t hard to spot Wally; his flame-red hair easily stood out among the children loitering on the playground or waiting for their parents.  
He saw his car in the carpool line, and waved goodbye to the two other children he’d been joking with.  
But—any sign of their confident prankster dissolved when he walked across the playground. He kept his head down, and held his high-school-level chemistry book tightly in his arms. He’d almost made it all the way across, when—  
“Hey there little geek,” an older boy jeered.  
“Geek? Ha! Really Carson, I take that as a compliment,” Wally tried to bluster. He looked—maybe nine? The older boy was definitely at least twelve.  
“You won’t be laughing when I get my hands on you,” Carson grabbed Wally’s arm. Wally yelped and tried to run, to no avail. “Aww, he thinks he can escape!”  
“My mom is in that car over there,” Wally said furiously. “She’ll come get me! She’ll call the principal on you!”  
Carson slowly let go of his arm.  
“You get off this time, nerd,” he growled, “but I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re the punk who needs his mommy to save him.”  
Wally looked despairingly at Carson, looking like he wanted to retort, but instead turned tail and sprinted to his mother’s car.  
“Children are cruel,” M’gann frowned.  
“Indeed,” Kaldur agreed.  
The memory faded, and dissolved into—

A familiar chill filled the air.  
The despair was almost tangible.  
The bright, crystalline reflection of the sun on snow.  
The horrifyingly bright flash of a laser.  
The thrum of a deadly weapon.  
A bow against the sky turned to ash.  
M’gann heard her own voice screaming.  
“ _ARTEMIS!”_

It was gone as quick as it came, but Artemis’ hand was gripping hers so tightly she’d have bruises tomorrow. M’gann squeezed lightly in return, a silent show of support. 

The next memory as it appeared was rather dark and blurred at first, sort of like a vignette on an old photo.  
“KF! KF, get up!”  
That sounded like a little kid.  
“Please! I can’t—take—these guys—on—my own!”  
Yep, definitely a little kid. That couldn’t be right. The muffled thumps in the background were definitely sounds of battle.  
The world cleared.  
They were in some sort of warehouse.  
Wally was in his Kid Flash costume, laying stunned against a pile of crates. He looked young.  
With a start, M’gann realized he looked thirteen—his first year as a hero.  
The child shouting was... that was Robin, fighting off seven thugs on his own, desperately yelling for Kid Flash. He couldn’t have been older than eleven. His costume was different, and he looked so tiny.  
Wally was still bleary, still bordering on unconsciousness. He must’ve been thrown pretty hard, because M’gann was fairly certain his speedster healing factor should’ve taken care of that by now.  
“ _Ah!”_  
One of the thugs finally got a hit on Robin. He stumbled, and they pounced. Someone noticed Wally waking up, and quickly rushed over to him, while the rest struggled with the Boy Wonder. Was that a gunshot?  
The thug reached Wally, and smacked him in the head with a pipe.  
The memory went dark for a moment.  
“That didn’t look good,” Conner said.  
“Nope,” Artemis crossed her arms, popping the ‘p.’ “It definitely did not.”  
M’gann didn’t say anything. She was tired of watching her friends get hurt.  
Kaldur said nothing either. She wondered what he was thinking.  
The memory brightened... somewhat. They seemed to be in a cage covered by some sort of cloth. A closer look revealed Wally in one of the corners, his healing factor probably already fixing up the concussion he’d definitely just gotten. Robin, sitting next to him, leaning on the bars, wasn’t so lucky. He was bleeding from the leg, a lucky gunshot wound in between the Kevlar plates, and there were dark bruises covering his face. Probably had broken ribs as well, if his shuddering breaths were any indication. He didn’t have his utility belt.  
And Wally was panicking.  
“Oh God, oh God,“ he muttered, and if there had been room in the cage M’gann knew he would’ve been pacing. “Rob—Rob, c’mon man, you gotta wake up! Wow. Great job, Wally. You’ve up and gotten your only friend beaten up and almost murdered and now he’s gonna die on your watch.” His breaths got shorter and shorter. He started shaking, and put his head in his hands.  
“I’m not even good at being a superhero! What’s the use of a kid whose only talent is chemistry and running kinda fast, eh? C’mon, Rob, this—this is the part where you wake up, all dramatic, like ‘Nooooo KF! You’re wrong!’ you did that last time, remember?”  
He froze.  
“Crap! No, no no no, you’re probably bleeding out, oh no,” he crawled over to Robin’s small form. He pressed both hands on the wound. “What’s worse? The infection I’m gonna give you from my dirty gloves, or losing almost two pints of blood? Only Batman knows!” He was still violently shaking. “Get it together, Kid Flash. Come on!” It didn’t seem to help him much. He put more pressure on Robin’s leg.  
Artemis slowly reached out a hand to touch Wally’s shoulder, but it just went right through. Kaldur took her arm, and whispered something to her.  
“This happened years ago. It is all right now.”  
Artemis didn’t look all that comforted, but she nodded. When she looked away, Kaldur’s eyes were sad.  
Conner took M’gann’s hand in his own.  
They waited it out.  
The memory dissipated after Batman and the Flash both appeared to save their sidekicks, and Wally nearly collapsed right then and there.

It was thirteen-year-old Wally in the white expanse, his eyes not quiet focused—still a bit concussed—and trying to stop his hands from trembling.  
“What the heck are you guys doing here?! What the heck am _I_ doing here?! Hey, aren’t you Aqualad? You’re taller than I expected.”  
The older teens all looked over at Kaldur, who shrugged, and stepped forward.  
“Yes, I am Aqualad. You are currently trapped inside this place. This is Miss Martian,” M’gann stepped forward, “and she can free you. Will you let her help?”  
“I—I guess,” he looked at her suspiciously. She was about to reach out with her mind, when—  
“Wait!” Wally yelled. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”  
Artemis snorted.  
“Your middle name is Rudolph,” she snickered. He flushed angrily, but nodded to M’gann.  
She brought them back.

“Gah!” Kid Flash sat up like a bullet. Aqualad his hand in his shoulder.  
“It’s alright.”  
“That was sooooo not cool. Miss M, tell your telepath friends they suck.”  
“They’re not my friends, Kid.”  
“Ya but like—never mind.” He looked around the room. “Hey, is Rob okay?”  
“We had to save rescuing him for last,” Miss Martian explained. “He... kicked us out, when Artemis and I tried. We figured we needed you, since you’re his best friend.”  
“Oh.”  
The lack of snarky comment was a little bit concerning, but Miss Martian chalked it up to the awful day they were all having, and moved on.  
“Are you guys ready?”  
The team responded with their affirmative. Everyone linked hands.  
M’gann touched Robin’s forehead. Her eyes flared green.

They were in.  
It was a memory! It worked!  
The scene came into clarity around them. They were outside some sort of warehouse. M’gann could vaguely see Robin’s shadow leaning against its wall, although it was a typical Gotham night—dark. As the group drew closer, she realized he was wearing the same costume from Wally’s memory, though he looked even younger. It lacked most of the black his current outfit had, instead bearing bold green, and a cape that was entirely yellow.  
“Okay. Okay, you can do this,” he whispered to himself, before silently dashing into the warehouse. M’gann and the rest of the team followed.  
It was a strange sight. Past the piles of crates, one of which Robin was currently hiding behind, was Batman... captured. He and a man in a court judge’s robes were both tied to posts on platforms, with nooses around their necks. All it would take to hang them would be dropping the trapdoors underneath. M’gann could hear monologuing. Upon closer inspection, she saw it was Two-Face, one of Gotham’s nastier Rogues (which was saying something. It was Gotham, after all).  
While Batman—for some reason—kept trying to talk some sense into Two-Face, Robin dashed agilely along the edge of the warehouse until he was behind the platforms. Following typical Bat protocol, he went to rescue the judge first.  
He cut the ropes around his hands, then the rope around his neck. When the man dropped to the platform, Robin let out a signature cackle and tossed a birdarang at Two-Face.  
“Holy dramatic rescue, Batman!” he grinned.  
“He’s giving the Bat time to escape,” Kaldur noted. “Causing a distraction while also saving the civilian.”  
But Two-Face, instead of becoming enraged and launching himself at the sidekick, started laughing.  
Robin stilled.  
“You forgot one thing, little bird,” he smiled. “I much prefer two traps to one!”  
The trapdoor underneath the judge opened, and so did a second one underneath.  
The man fell to his death.  
Robin froze, hands shaking.  
“Robin—Robin, listen to me! It’s alright, it’s alright—I’ll be there in a second—“ Batman started to struggle against his bindings, sounding uncharacteristically worried. Robin shakily flipped off the platform, and readied himself for battle.  
Normally, M’gann realized, even at around ten years old Robin would’ve been able to hold his own for long enough. But shaken like that—he didn’t stand a chance.  
It was brutal.  
It seemed like it lasted hours, watching their friend _as a little kid_ get beaten bloody and bruised and broken by a psychopathic masochist who seemed to be _enjoying_ it. Wally stopped watching, after a while. M’gann couldn’t look away.  
Batman eventually got his bonds free, and the last thing they all saw before little Robin collapsed and the memory went dark, was the most terrifying visage of the Batman they’d ever seen.  
The memory flickered.  
“Alfred...” Robin’s child’s voice resounded through the flickering memory. Briefly M’gann saw a mansion, Batman, Two-Face’s visceral grin bearing down upon them.

“What am I going to do now?”

The memory faded entirely. 

They were in the white expanse of consciousness, but something was still wrong.  
It was their Robin, not the little ten-year-old version in a bright yellow cape.  
“Sorry guys, but you can’t go any further.” He crosses his arms.  
“So... we’re not done?” Conner asked. Robin winced slightly.  
“No—but I’m not letting you all see this one. It compromises my identity. And... it’s personal. Very personal.”  
“There is no other way,” Kaldur said placatingly.  
“Is there?” Robin looked questioningly at Wally, who shook his head. Robin sighed. “Is there any way that only Wally comes through, and no one else?”  
“I have to be there,” M’gann said, being sure to make her sympathy clear. “And wouldn’t it be better anyway to have all of us there to support you?”  
“No,” Robin said honestly, “but I don’t think I can change your minds.” He muttered something that sounded like ‘B’s gonna kill me,’ then vanished.

A memory flickered reluctantly into place.

They were at... a circus?  
“Oh!” Artemis exclaimed. “This is Haly’s Circus! I went here when I was seven with Ja—with my sister! It was pretty awesome,” she smirked.  
“Yep,” Wally said, “pretty awesome.” His tone was strange, almost sarcastic.  
“You know Robin’s identity, do you not?” Kaldur asked him. M’gann had thought as much as well, but she wasn’t sure.  
“Yeah.” His voice sounded hollow. “I do.”  
“You do?! I can’t believe you never said anything!” Artemis placed her hands on her hips indignantly. Wally, obviously not in the mood for one of their ‘flirtguments’ (as Robin called them), just rolled his eyes.  
“Let’s just get this over with.”  
They actually weren’t able to find Robin, since he wasn’t wearing a mask and, according to Wally, was eight years old. He was happily doing handsprings with a group of identically costumed acrobats, but he was mostly covered by the much taller people around him.  
Wally pointed them all out.  
“They’re the Flying Graysons,” he explained. Artemis perked up.  
“Oh! I saw them! They were the best part of the whole show. Last time I checked they weren’t on the roster anymore. Wonder why,” she shrugged. Wally glared at her. She raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.  
“That’s John Grayson, Rob’s dad,” Wally pointed to a dark-haired man with amused brown eyes, “and that’s Mary, his mom.” He gestured towards the redheaded woman with sparking blue eyes. “There’s his Aunt Karla, his Uncle Richard, and his cousin John Jr.” he pointed at the laughing trio. “And there’s Rob. Dick Grayson.”  
“I definitely know that name,” Artemis frowned, but she didn’t seem to remember where. M’gann also found it rather familiar, but maybe she’d seen it on the Internet somewhere.  
Just then, Robin—Dick—bounded away from his family, laughing. He ran across the circus all the way to the animal pens. Upon seeing him, one of the elephants immediately stood, and when he entered her cage she wrapped her trunk around him like a hug.  
“Hello Zitka,” he giggled, and it was so carefree M’gann wanted to cry, though she wasn’t sure why. His voice had a strange, thick accent she didn’t recognize. She was finally able to see his face clearly, too. Robin without his mask was... strange. Unfamiliar, like she didn’t recognize her own friend.  
His eyes were blue.  
She’s not sure why she didn’t expect that.  
Voices came from outside the cage. The team turned to listen, and Dick appeared to as well.  
“...I tell you, I run an honest business here. I’m not paying you anything,” said a man in a ringmaster’s costume. The other man, the one he was speaking to, was shrouded in shadow.  
“That’s your loss, Haly. We’re not going to forget this. You’ll pay—one way or another.”  
“Get out of my circus,” Haly spat.  
“Dick!” John Jr called, running into the pens, out of breath. He looked about thirteen, and would be the spitting image of their Robin if it weren’t for the brown eyes. “Get out here! Show’s starting in five!”  
“Coming!” Dick said goodbye to the elephant, Zitka, and sprinted after his cousin.  
The team followed.  
“Mama,” Dick said, “something’s wrong. There was a bad man—“  
“Shhh. Not now, Dickie,” Mary Grayson looked at him fondly. “We have to get ready. What does your father always say?” Dick grinned.  
“The show must go on!”  
“That’s right, my little robin.”  
Artemis’ gasp was small, but audible. Kaldur seemed equally surprised. Conner just looked confused, and Wally seemed very... sad.  
The show passed by in a blur. M’gann didn’t even try to enjoy it, steeping in the knowledge that something was going to happen, and it wasn’t going to be good.  
“And now,” Haly announced with a grin, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for—the Flying Graysons!”  
Their act was wonderful. It was like watching angels in flight. The team’s eyes were riveted to the show, both admiring it and waiting with bated breath.  
“Now, their infamous finale! Containing their most famous move—the quadruple flip! And they’re going to do it all... without a net!” The audience cheered wildly.  
Dick stayed on the acrobats’ platform, high above the ground, but safe. Apparently, he was too young for this particular trick, but he looked excited to watch it all the same.  
M’gann’s heart beat in her throat.  
The act began, and it was gorgeous. It was elegant, and graceful, and—

_SNAP._

_CRACK._

The Flying Graysons fell.

Both the audience and the team were shocked into silence.  
“No,” M’gann said quietly.  
“Oh my God—“ Artemis looked like she was going to throw up. Kaldur didn’t look much better, growing paler every second as the pools of blood grew. Conner met M’gann’s eyes, looking confused and shocked. Wally’s head was in his hands.  
A heart-wrenching scream echoed through the tent.  
The team’s attention was brought back to the memory at hand.  
M’gann realized slowly that Dick Grayson had climbed down from the platform and was trying to cradle his mother and father in his arms.  
The screaming had dissolved into silence, but his shoulders were still wracked with sobs. Artemis gripped M’gann’s arm tightly. Her fingernails drew blood. M’gann reaches for Conner’s hand, and he took it. She swore there were tears on Wally’s cheeks.  
“No... wake up, please... _Mami, Tati, trezește-te te rog. Nu mă părăsi...”_  
A tall, broad man with dark hair put a jacket around Dick’s shoulders. Bruce Wayne? No—Batman... no—both. M’gann realized somewhat belatedly that the acrobats’ costumes were red, green, and yellow.  
Puzzle pieces fell into place.  
The memory started to fog.  
“He’s probably going into shock,” Kaldur said quietly. The memory continued to blur until, together, they were in the familiar white horizon of consciousness.  
There was little Dick Grayson staring at them with hollow blue eyes, in that horribly familiar circus costume. There was blood on his face. It was not his.  
“It’s not real, is it?” He asked them. He looked so awfully small.  
“No,” M’gann said softly, “it’s not.”  
“Tell me one thing,” he said. “Do I get him? The horrible _smucitură_ who killed my parents?”  
“Yeah,” Wally answered, “yeah you do.”  
“Good.” Dick nodded, turned to M’gann. “You can do the uhhh... thingy now. Wake us up.”  
M’gann smiled slightly, and did just that.

Miss Martian’s eyes fluttered open.  
Robin was shaking off sympathy from everyone but Kid Flash, who seemed to get that reminders of his past was the last thing he needed right then, and Conner—but Conner was just sort of standing there helplessly, not quite knowing what to do.  
“Hey—Miss M—“ Robin stood from the metal table, which he’d been sitting on. “Thanks. For getting us out.”  
“It was nothing,” she replied honestly, but she smiled. He grinned back. It was a different grin than the one he’d had as a happy little circus boy, but... she liked this one better.  
“You didn’t have anyone there to help you with your memories, did you?” He frowned and cocked his head. Ever the detective.  
“No... but in comparison to some of the things I’ve seen today, I don’t think I needed it.” Artemis’, Robin’s, and even Kid Flash’s memories had caught her off-guard. Made her realize how easy she’d had it.  
Robin looked unconvinced.  
“No one’s in this life without scars, M. At least talk to Black Canary about it.” He flashed her his troublemaker’s smirk. “If not for me, then for a certain clone of Superman we both know.”  
“I can hear you,” Superboy called.  
“Darn it, SB! We were having a moment!” Robin cackled.  
“So this is fun and all, but we did have a mission,” Artemis said drily.  
“Does anyone remember what that was? Because I sure don’t,” Kid Flash shrugged, now using Robin as an armrest. Robin didn’t even look fazed.  
“How about we just... go home,” Aqualad signed. He looked seconds away from developing some sort of chronic face-palm disease. Miss Martian didn’t blame him.  
He was right, though. None of them were making any effort to conceal their thoughts or emotions from her, and every single team member radiated exhaustion. Both mental and physical.  
She realized they had no idea how long they were under that telepathic influence. For all they knew, it could’ve been anywhere from half an hour to a few days.  
“Um... does anyone have the time?” She decided she might as well address it.  
“Oh crap,” Kid Flash said.  
“I’ve got it... oh geez. We’ve been down here for almost twenty-four hours,” Robin’s mask lenses widened along with his eyes. “B’s totally freaked out by now. Crap. What the heck am I gonna tell Batman?”  
“ _OH!_ THATS WHERE I’D HEARD YOUR NAME BEFORE!” Artemis suddenly shouted. “We’ll laugh about this someday?! _Seriously?!_ ”  
Both Robin and Kid Flash started cackling.  
“I’ve got a copy of the picture, it’s gold!” Kid Flash wheezed. Aqualad sighed, looking rather bemused at his teammates’ antics.  
- _Humans are weird.-_ Conner’s thoughts brushed up against her own.  
- _You can say that again.-_  
“We really should leave,” Aqualad urged gently. “We do not know if there are cameras in here, or if whoever captured us will return.”  
“Alrighty my dudes, let’s make like bananas and split!” Kid Flash pumped his fist in the air.

They were all laughing when they left the dark room behind. Shaken and hurt, but laughing.

It was nice.

**Author's Note:**

> I always wished the original team had more time to become the family they wanted to be. Or at least I wanted to be able to see it happen onscreen, lol. But really, they were a bunch of teenagers with a lot of darkness inside them, and I wanted them to be able to share more of that with their teammates.  
> Besides, who am I to pass up an opportunity for angst? 
> 
> I was hesitant to add in the Romani references for Dick, but it felt like it was too much a part of him to pass up. I wasn’t able to find an actual Romani translator, though, so I was forced to use Romanian. 
> 
> _Mami, Tati, trezește-te te rog. Nu mă părăsi_ : “Mommy, daddy, please wake up. Don’t leave me here”  
>  _smucitură_ : Jerk (I figured 8yo Dick wouldn’t know ‘asshole’)
> 
> Credit goes to Demons by Imagine Dragons for the title and quote in the summary. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Love ya!


End file.
